


Intermission

by Jedflah



Category: Back to the Future (Movies)
Genre: Doc is Marty's dad(TM), Father-Son Relationship, Friends in Time, Gen, Just a wholesome time, One Shot, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:07:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24501316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jedflah/pseuds/Jedflah
Summary: Marty has arrived in 1955 and convinced Doc to help him repair the timeline and get home to 1985, but where will Marty stay during his week in the past?
Relationships: Emmett "Doc" Brown & Marty McFly
Comments: 3
Kudos: 70





	Intermission

**Saturday, November 5, 1955, 10:05 PM**

The Brown Mansion, like with the rest of 1955, was completely alien to Marty. It loomed over the rest of the town that kept building up closer to it each year. The size was rather unreasonable for just a scientist and his dog, but it hadn't always been just the two of them.

Marty suggested he could stay in a motel nearby, but Doc shot that idea down almost as quickly as Marty spoke of it. "You should keep any superfluous interactions to a minimum this week. We've already got a lot to handle with getting your parents together," he explained.

"Alright, well, where do you think I should crash then?"

"I suppose you could stay here for the time being. There isn't much you could do to affect my future by doing so."

Marty sighed and stared at the floor. "Yeah about that-"

Doc waved his hand. "No! Please, Marty, whatever you do, you cannot tell me about the future! I've already seen too much when you showed me that tape."

Marty paused. "Right, okay." He looked back up at Doc. "Thanks for letting me stay. It was either here or my Mom's place and uh... I don't think that would be good for anyone involved."

"Good thinking on that. Here, let me see if I can find any clean bedding." Doc led Marty down a hallway to the linen closet. He handed Marty a few sheets and blankets and showed him to one of the rooms upstairs. It was small and cozy. There was a bare bed in the corner, a writing desk next to it, and a standing wardrobe opposite the bed.

"I'm not sure how rooms look in 1985, but I hope this will suffice. Do they still have fitted sheets?"

Marty chuckled. "Yeah, but whenever it's my turn to wash them, I wish we hadn't. The room's great, Doc. Thanks."

Doc smiled and left Marty with an awkward pat on the shoulder. It took some finessing, but Marty eventually got his bed made. He hung up his jacket and vest in the wardrobe and crawled under the blankets. Somehow, he felt like he was right at home. 

It wasn’t until he got comfortable when he realized how exhausted he was from the day’s events, and that the only other rest he had in the last 24 hours was from being hit by his grandfather’s car. He brought the blanket up to his face, covering his neck, and went to sleep.

Marty woke up late on Sunday morning. 10:45 AM to be precise. He walked downstairs to the living room where Doc was writing in his notebook (presumably a plan on how to get Marty home). “How did you sleep?” he asked without looking up.

“Hm? Oh I slept fine.” Marty glanced at the clock. “Jeez, I slept for twelve hours?”

“Sleep is the most important thing you could do to take care of yourself at your age.” Doc set aside the notebook. “And I also saw when I turned on the time circuits that you had been up for seventeen hours with what I can only assume a few hours of sleep to run on. Breakfast is in the kitchen, by the way.”

Marty smiled. The last time someone made breakfast for him was his tenth birthday. He made his way into said kitchen and loaded up his plate with the still warm eggs, toast, and bacon. Marty had his fair share of midcentury recipes whenever he went to his grandparents’ house (meatloaf that had too much celery and was covered in ketchup, tuna casserole, and all of the infamous banana or mayonnaise ridden dishes), but Marty wasn’t thinking about that. Considering the only sustenance he’s had yesterday was a few sips of black coffee and half a dinner roll, he was too hungry to think about anything.

As far as 50s dishes go, this was alright in Marty’s book. 

Once he finished his breakfast, he went back to the living room where Doc was letting his dog out of the kennel.

“I usually don’t do kennels, but I didn’t want Copernicus to bother you while you slept. I don’t get visitors often, so I didn’t know how he would take to strangers,” he said.

“That’s an interesting name for a dog.”

“I try to go with names I can easily remember, but won’t get mixed up with other dogs whenever I take him out on walks or in case he gets lost,” Doc explained.

“Yeah, but why Copernicus?”

“Why not?”

Marty couldn’t argue with that. He took a seat in one of the armchairs, and Copernicus immediately jumped up onto his lap. Marty smiled and pet the small dog as Doc took his seat across from him. “So what’s the plan for getting my parents together and for getting me home, Doc?”

“I’m still working the latter part out. As for the former, I still don’t know how bad the damage is, so that will have to be on hold for a while. You’ll be doing most of the work on that anyhow, being your parents and all.”

“Right, right,” Marty nodded. “So what should I do until we get a plan going?”

Doc sighed. “Well, for now, I’d say you focus on adjusting from your trip through time. I imagine it’s a little jarring being accidentally thrust into the past like that.”

“Yeah, well I can tell you it’s not fun,” Marty said. “But I guess it’s one of those things you get used to the more you do it.”

Monday morning came when Marty woke up to the sound of Doc knocking on the door to his room. He checked his watch. 6:00 AM. Marty groaned and sat up. "Yeah?" he said.

Doc opened the door and stepped inside. "You have to get ready for school."

"But you said I shouldn't interact with anyone!"

"You also need to get your parents together, and it would be easier if you were in the same place they were. Now, we have about two hours to get you ready and looking like a regular 50s teenager," Doc explained.

"Jeez, this is heavy... Alright gimme a second to get up." Marty rubbed his eyes and sluggishly emerged from his room and made his way downstairs.

A selection of button-up shirts were spread out on the table in front of Marty, each one with a gaudier pattern than the last. "Are you sure I can't just wear my own shirt, Doc?"

"You wore that Saturday and your parents saw you wearing it; they'd notice you wearing the same shirt. Besides, these are authentic to the period! You'll blend right in," he reassured.

Marty huffed and picked out an off-white shirt with a repeating green rectangle pattern as it was the least offensive to the eyes. "Can I at least have a jacket or something to go with it?"

“It is supposed to be a bit cold today. Let me see what I can do.” Doc left the room and came back with a red and tan jacket. “This is all I could find.”

Marty took the jacket and put it on. “It’ll work. Well, I think that’s everything and we still have another hour to kill!”

“Mmm, not quite.” Doc held up a comb and a tin of pomade. “You’d stick out too much with your hair that messy.” 

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I’m afraid not.”

Marty grunted and took the pomade and comb and turned to the mirror. He stared at the metal tin for a few minutes before turning back to Doc. “I don’t know how to do this.”

“They don’t do this in the future?”

“Well, my dad does, but he never taught me how. Actually, there’s a lot of stuff he hasn’t taught me how to do I guess.”

Doc took back the pomade tin and took off the lid. “Well, no better time to learn than the present.”

“Or the past,” Marty quipped.

Well that made Doc smile. Still, he carried on with the tutorial. “So you just take a little in your hand and run it through your hair first, and then you comb through to make it look smooth. Here, you try now.”

Marty nodded and did just as Doc instructed. “Well, I guess I don’t look  _ that _ much like a square.”

“You look fine. It’s only for a week you have to keep this up, then once you’re back in 1985 you won’t have to touch the stuff again.”

“I’m looking forward to it.” He set the tin and comb down on the table. “I think that covers everything.”

“Well, there is still one thing. Those shoes are far too futuristic.” Doc went around behind the table and set down a few shoe boxes next to the shirts. “These are a bit old, but they’re shoes.”

Marty looked over the boxes, but none of the pairs really stood out to him. Then, he noticed a stray pair of Chucks. “Hey we have those in 1985! How ‘bout I just wear those?”

Doc looked at the high-tops. “Why would you wanna wear gym shoes?”

“‘Cuz they look good.”

Doc shrugged and handed Marty the shoes. “Now if my calculations are correct, breakfast should be ready by now.”

“Thanks, Doc. I really appreciate it.”

“Well it was simple really, I just rigged-”

“No, I mean for helping me out here. Giving me a place to stay, helping me get my parents back together, and helping me get home.”

Doc paused. “Oh, well that’s no trouble either."

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! This is my first time posting to AO3, so any feedback is welcome!


End file.
